


Driven to Diversion

by Shiro_Kabocha



Series: Dorm Life at Garreg Mach Monastery [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claude/Dimitri (background couple), Dorm Life - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 11:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shiro_Kabocha/pseuds/Shiro_Kabocha
Summary: Felix seeks refuge from his noisy neighbors in the dormitory with an unlikely but agreeable friend.





	Driven to Diversion

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive me for this rarepair. I recruited Linhardt to the Blue Lions and completely by chance, sent him off to heal Felix as he cleared out a section of map for me and this story came out of nowhere all in the space of one afternoon. Please join me in rarepair hell, if you like! ^_^

"They're at it again!" Felix snarled, shoving the door open as he burst inside with neither warning nor invitation. "It's like they have no courtesy for anyone else in the entire dormitory! Rutting like animals at all hours! Have they no control over themselves?"

"Why hello, Felix," Linhardt said from the bed, entirely used to Felix's sudden intrusions by now. He was lying on his bed, half-dressed as he turned a page in the book he was reading. "Do come in. No, I'm not doing anything. Please, tell me about your day."

Felix huffed and strode the length of the small dorm room, narrowly avoiding stacks of books and curls of parchment. "It's like they don't realize they can be heard at all! And no matter where they decide to shack up for the night, their rooms are on either side of mine, so I can't help but overhear!"

"So inconsiderate," Linhardt said without an ounce of pity. He made a note on the page of his book, then flipped the page again.

"Why don't they just go down to Sylvain's room at the end of the hall?" Felix asked, ignoring Linhardt's preoccupation with his book. "It's not like he ever sleeps there. He just uses it to change in the morning before class."

"Hm, yes." Linhardt set his quill inside the book, closed it, then stretched. He was only half-dressed, the flash of pale skin beneath his nightshirt catching Felix's eye in a way that made him stumble over his diatribe. "Did you come all the way down here for sex, or just to complain? I can keep reading if you're just going to whine about your prince and the dashing duke."

"He's not a duke yet," Felix said almost petulantly. Linhardt wore only a long nightshirt, which had rucked up nearly to his waist as he stretched languidly on the bed. He'd actually planned on complaining a little more, but the expanse of Linhardt's long, slim thighs was too entrancing. Almost despite himself, he was drawn over towards the bed.

"_Fine_. Your prince and the duke-to-be," Linhardt corrected, rolling over to place his book on a stack near the foot of his bed. "Did you know that back in the old days, the children of a duke were also called princes and princesses? But I thought it would just be confusing if I had called them both princes, so--"

Felix effectively cut Linhardt's scholarly anecdote off with a firm kiss, one hand beneath Linhardt's chin to tip it up as the other freed Linhardt's hair from its tie. He set one knee on the bed, leaning over Linhardt as he rolled him onto his back, deepening the kiss and running fingers down that long, pale neck.

"Ah, good, we are going to have sex." Linhardt smiled coyly, hands making quick work of Felix's belt. "And here I was afraid I'd closed my book for nothing."

"You were expecting me," Felix accused, leaning back to pull off his shirt. "Otherwise, you'd have left the door locked."

"I always leave the door unlocked," Linhardt replied, taking a moment to appreciate the swordsman's well-muscled chest and shoulders. "I live in hope that handsome knights will storm in and ravish me in the night. It happens more often than you think."

Felix chuckled, leaning low over Linhardt. "I think it happens _exactly_ as often as I think it does." He kissed Linhardt again, hands sliding down his sides to find the edges of the nightshirt, first playing over the warm, smooth skin of Linhardt's thighs, hips, sides, then finally sliding the shirt up, Linhardt arching off the bed so Felix could pull it off of him. He felt Linhardt working at the laces of his breeches as he began kissing his way down the long column of neck to Linhardt's shoulder.

"Mmm," Linhardt hummed agreeably. Once he had the front of Felix's breeches open, he slipped a hand inside, stroking and teasing with his fingers. Felix ground into the touch, striving for more contact. As he leaned in closer, Linhardt's free hand tugged the leather tie out of his hair, spilling inky, shadowy tendrils over both of their faces. Long fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer even as the hand inside his breeches began stroking him, firm and slow.

For long moments, this was enough. Trading touches, sharing kisses. It had started like this and Felix was happy to let it continue this way. He didn't ask after Linhardt's day; Linhardt didn't care to hear more about his own. It wasn't so much that they didn't care, it was just that, outside of carnal pleasure, they didn't share much in common. Felix could care less about the history of crests, or the origin of relic weapons. And Linhardt avoided talk of weapons and training as vehemently as he avoided having to handle weapons or attend training. Besides, they both lived at Garreg Mach; they each knew how the other's day had been: Classes, specialized training, forced social interactions and gossip over dinner. What was there to talk about, really?

Linhardt's tongue was in Felix's mouth, approximating the motion he was making with his hand between them, followed by a very deliberate nip at Felix's lower lip. With a barely audible growl, Felix untangled himself from his lover and sat up, freeing himself from his remaining clothes.

"Honestly, I don't understand why you come here wearing clothes at all," Linhardt said, smiling slightly as he watched Felix's clothes hit the floor. "You should just wrap yourself in one of those furred cloaks you northerners are so proud of and then throw it off with a dramatic flourish."

"Yeah, right." Felix couldn't keep from grinning as he hovered over his lover again. "That would be the one night you'd be in the library and I'd find your door locked."

"Are you saying you wouldn't come find me in the library like that?" Linhardt asked as if it were a serious request. "You know how cold the library gets at night. A furred cloak might be just what I need."

Felix chuckled at that, then got back to kissing. His knees straddled Linhardt's hips, his hands supporting his weight as his fingers tangled with the long, verdant strands of Linhardt's hair. He held back moans of pleasure as fingers dug into muscles sore from training, easing aches and soothing knots. He was never quite certain if Linhardt was actually a skilled masseuse or if he were using his healing magic on him, but either way, his body always felt refreshed afterwards. When Linhardt's hands reached the back of his neck, finding pressure points where his shoulders met his spine, Felix drew a sharp breath and let his head rest against Linhardt's collarbone, trying to repress the shudders that went along with the tension leaving his back.

"So tight," Linhardt murmured, voice barely audible. "You must have been dueling someone taller than you today. Your Duscarian giant, perhaps? Or that commoner from the Golden Deer class?"

"Mm." He'd been dueling Sylvain, actually, followed by Dimitri, but he hated acknowledging how much taller they were compared to him. Not that it mattered; even with shorter stature and a shorter weapon, he could defeat the two lancers handily. "What about you? I overheard Mercedes saying she actually saw you in the cathedral today. Apparently, that's some sort of rarity, despite your faith training."

"Alas, Hubert has been keeping a closer eye on me lately, forcing me to take a stronger interest in my studies." Linhardt's voice was a composite sketch of misery, woe and mild inconvenience. "I told him that I learn better from books than the so-called divine revelations of peaceful meditation--mostly because meditation puts me right to sleep, you know--but he's been quite adamant that I make the effort. He's even threatening to join me in meditation at the cathedral, which would put an end to my reading beneath the pew, so I am making an effort. Somewhat." Felix felt him shrug. "This is entirely too much like small talk, however, and I'm much more interested in hearing something else from you."

"Oh?" Felix rubbed his nose against the hollow of Linhardt's throat, felt the slight catch in his breathing. "What's that?"

Fingers carded his hair, tugging lightly before massaging the place where his skull met his spine. "Perhaps you could start by telling me all the things you're going to do to me tonight."

Felix grinned, shifting his weight to run his hand down Linhardt's side, nails leaving angry red trails that sent shivers through Linhardt's body. "I think I'd rather show you."

"Mm." Linhardt hummed agreeably. "Please do."

Felix set to work marking Linhardt's neck where they would be hidden by his uniform. He didn't think Linhardt would mind visible marks--he'd never said anything either way, really--but he at least felt certain that other busybodies would feel the need to remark on them, so he kept them low and hidden. He knew they were there; that was all that mattered. Linhardt's fingers were still working their magic on his shoulders, biceps and forearms even as Felix trailed kisses and marks lower and lower, reveling in the taste of warm skin and the scent of fresh ink and old parchment.

Felix hadn't even wanted to attend Garreg Mach. At least, not for the same year that the boar prince would be attending. He wouldn't have minded going at the same time as Sylvain, but Dimitri and Ingrid just reminded Felix of his brother, which just made him mask his pain with constant surliness. He'd wanted to attend Garreg Mach without so many old friends, without people who'd known his brother, so that he could concentrate more on his studies and training, rather than on constantly masking his ever-present grief. But his father had been insistent, and when Dimitri, Sylvain and Ingrid left for officer training, Felix found himself bundled along with them, heading for an education he was certain he didn't even need.

The classes and the training had started off rudimentary at best, yet Felix's old friends had applied themselves with the grim solemnity befitting the lords and ladies they would one day become. Well, at least Dimitri and Ingrid had. Sylvain had really only applied himself to making friends with all the girls at the school, as well as the local commoners. So the one friend Felix didn't out and out despise had made himself scarce, while the other two invited him to training and study sessions. He'd avoided both as if they were plagued.

In a fit of what he could now accept as petulance, Felix had half-hoped that he might be recruited to join a different class. If he became a knight of the Empire or of the Alliance, it was sure to tweak his father's nose, as well as allow him to fight against the boar prince in mock battles to the fullest extent of his abilities. So he'd spent most of his time at the training grounds, especially when Edelgard or Claude were there, showcasing his above-average sword skills and, when the opportunity presented itself, his extensive knowledge of battlefield tactics.

It didn't take long to realize that joining the Black Eagles was out; Petra was a remarkable swordswoman, one of the few other sword-specialists that Felix actually respected. He'd tried courting the Golden Deer more strongly--in an almost literal sense, because fuck if Claude wasn't very nice to look at--but after only about a month at Garreg Mach, it became clear that the only Blue Lion Claude was interested in was Dimitri. And not exactly for his skill with a spear. Well, perhaps in a figurative sense...

Anyway, after the first night that Felix had to listen to the two of them through the walls of his dorm room, Felix decided that he was certainly **not** interested in joining the Golden Deer.

Just when Felix had decided that the entire notion of officer school was wasted on him, he realized he was being watched. Not in an overtly creepy way, just a subtle, evaluating way. He'd turn around in the dining hall and find indigo eyes trained on him from a table full of priests and mages. The gaze hadn't whipped away shyly or feigned a disinterested blink, but instead held his for a moment longer, usually accompanied with a small smile before turning his attention back to his dining companions. Felix began noticing the pale scholar around the monastery after those brief encounters: napping in the gardens, staring dreamily at the fishing pond, drowsing in classrooms. For the first time, Felix wished he had a better relationship with the magic-users of his team; he wanted to know more about the quiet beauty that kept stealing his gaze. He'd learned, by listening in on Mercedes and Annette's constant chatter, that the priest’s name was Linhardt, of House Hevring in the Empire. That the green-haired beauty was undoubtedly brilliant, but severely unmotivated by the curriculum at the school. That when asked about a noble's duty, he'd yawned in the professor's face and replied a good monarch would never ask his vassals to lay down their lives for him, but rather would offer to lay down his life for his vassals.

Felix had just about swooned after hearing that.

It happened one lazy, drizzly afternoon: They met officially and spoke for the first time. Linhardt had been standing at the edge of the dock, watching the ripples caused by the rain. Almost no one else was outside, owing to the rain, even though it was so light that Felix barely noticed it. He had noticed the damp shoulders of Linhardt's uniform, however, and, as no one else was around, decided to take the initiative.

Linhardt had glanced back over his shoulder at the sound of hollow steps along the dock. He'd smiled faintly before looking down into the water again.

"Were you going to fish?" Felix asked with polite interest.

"I was fishing," Linhardt replied, sounding both morose and exhausted. "But a large fish came along and pulled the entire pole out of my hands. It's just there."

He pointed.

Felix came up beside him to look. Sure enough, the wooden pole was bobbing against the dock support.

"Oh." Felix didn't really know what to say to that.

Just as he was considering offering to retrieve the pole (which seemed like a lot of effort for someone who was still basically a stranger) Linhardt sighed deeply and turned to him.

"I was getting tired of fishing anyway," he said, pushing damp hair back behind his ear. "I might go take a nap. Are you interested in going to bed with me?"

Felix remembered composing himself for a long moment. He wasn't going to stammer. He wasn't going to blush. "Sure."

Their first encounter had been a little clumsy, a little blundering, but also enthusiastic and companionable. Felix had only had casual encounters before, usually chances taken in bath houses or in equipment sheds or empty training rooms. Linhardt had seemed the more experienced then, helping guide Felix when he wasn't sure what came next. He'd been mistaken in thinking Linhardt was quiet; in fact, the scholar was quite talkative, he just didn't like saying useless things. Which meant they talked little, acted more.

Linhardt had fallen asleep promptly afterwards, curled on his side, a dreamy smile on his face. Felix, unsure of any official after-sex protocols, had followed Sylvain's example and dressed silently and returned to his own room. He'd thought his next encounter with Linhardt would be awkward--Sylvain's encounters with one-night lovers were always awkward, if not outright hostile--but when Linhardt had gotten in line at the dining hall behind him the next day, he'd only smiled slyly and said "We should do it again sometime."

"Sometime" had turned into "most nights" as Felix was driven from his room by the sounds of animalistic sex through the walls. Well, whichever nights Linhardt wasn't driven to academia by curiosity and insomnia. Whenever Linhardt was in his room, however, Felix found the door unlocked, as if his lover had simply been waiting for him.

Now they knew each other better. So as Linhardt stretched lithely beneath Felix, back arching slightly off the bed, Felix knew to grind their hips together, moving his in a slow circle. Linhardt hummed, his eyes closed, sleepy smile in place, before taking Felix's hand and drawing his fingertips into his mouth, canny tongue tracing patterns on his skin before drawing them deeper and sucking lightly. Felix shivered and mouthed Linhardt's neck, teeth scraping his Adam's apple, tongue tracing the cords of his throat.

When the teasing finally became too much, Felix shifted off of Linhardt to grope beneath the bed for a now-familiar wooden box. He felt Linhardt's hips grinding slowly and insistently against him, the fingers in his hair silently urging him to hurry up. He slid the top from the box and felt around inside until he found a small glass jar of scented oil. Cupping it in his palm, he returned to the bed.

"All done playing?" Linhardt asked teasingly.

"I said I was going to show you, didn't I?" Felix asked with a smirk.

Linhardt only smiled, drawing one knee up as Felix positioned himself between his legs. He scooped up a dollop of oil before pressing the jar into Linhardt's hand, warming the oil in his palm as Linhardt stretched to place the jar on a nearby bed table. After Linhardt settled back into the bed, Felix leaned over him, kissing his lips as his fingers circled Linhardt's entrance.

As always, Linhardt hummed and moaned, eyes closed as he rocked gently back against Felix's fingers. The scholar always felt so relaxed, so ready, beneath his hands, welcoming the intrusion almost greedily. Felix moved to kiss Linhardt's neck so he could hear all the little sounds Linhardt made. He never spoke during sex--not since that first time when he'd acted as Felix's guide. He never begged, never demanded, never asked for more, more. Linhardt would take everything given with gasps and moans, screams and cries. It didn't seem to matter if Felix simply needed a short, sharp diversion for a matter of minutes, or if he wanted a long, languid session that lasted for hours. Linhardt just accepted whatever it was Felix wanted to give him, almost always finishing with a lazy smile before falling into a remarkably deep sleep.

Perhaps that was what Felix liked best about their arrangement: Linhardt never asked anything of him. Even that first time, it had been a choice: Do you want to got to bed with me? No pressure, just an honest question. And afterwards, there had been no request for a commitment, or even future relations. Just a simple: Let’s do it again sometime. Linhardt wasn't one for duty or honor, wasn't given to extolling the virtues of chivalry or knighthood. He wasn't even one for reading fictional accounts that glorified such things; his pursuits were purely academic. Linhardt wasn't like anyone else Felix had ever met, which gave him something he hadn't known he was missing in his life: Peace.

Linhardt was beginning to moan louder, his eyes crinkled at the corners as his hips did most of the work of preparation. Felix worked the oil in, stretching and thrusting with his fingers, but Linhardt's muscles pulsed around him, trying for more, fuller, deeper. When Linhardt's kiss-swollen lips parted in a silent gasp, Felix crooked his fingers and ground down, turned that silent gasp into a throaty moan. Linhardt's body shuddered, his back arched, his hips pulsing for more more more. Felix, feeling generous, gave it to him, working that spot inside him until Linhardt's heavy, flushed member was drooling copious amounts of precum onto his own stomach.

He could do this for hours, Felix knew, and Linhardt would never tell him to hurry up, to get on with it. He knew because he'd timed it once. He knew because he always lost patience before Linhardt did. So he only kept at it until he couldn't wait any longer. Withdrew his fingers and used the remaining oil to slick his own cock. Linhardt drew a shuddering breath, indigo eyes slitted open over that familiar smile, watching as Felix positioned himself.

The way was as open as it always was, Linhardt arching his back and drawing one leg back before hooking it around Felix's waist to be accommodating. Felix leaned in, pressing forward, sliding into heat and pressure slowly, unhurried by the heel in the small of his back. He slid one hand beneath Linhardt's back, lifting his hips slightly, bearing down until he was fully seated, fully sheathed, then paused. The pause was for him, not Linhardt. Linhardt was ready, good to go, hips rocking in a "let's go" sort of rhythm. No, this was a moment Felix wanted to savor. The feeling of being surrounded, held fast, wanted. The look on Linhardt's face: Open, wanting, rapturous. Felix dragged his nails down Linhardt's side, watching the angry red furrows form and fade on soft, pale skin. Linhardt whimpered and moaned, hips bucking, hands twisted in the bedclothes. No demands, just sensations. No pain, only pleasure.

Felix finally began to move, starting slow to make it last. Linhardt's cries started soft, gasps and wordless yelps for Felix's ears only. But as his tempo increased, so did Linhardt's volume. The leg around his waist became a steady pressure; one of Linhardt's hands pressed against the headboard so he could press himself more firmly into Felix's thrusts. His shouts bounced back at them from the corners of the rooms, but he wasn't loud enough yet. With a feral grin, Felix shrugged Linhardt's knee up over his shoulder, repositioned himself, leaned it a bit more--Linhardt screamed, the cords of his neck standing out as he tossed his head back into the pillows, his free hand coming down to stroke his heavy red member. His body shuddered and jumped as if a thunder spell coursed through it, his screams unending as Felix ground into that spot again and again and again. Only distantly was Felix aware of his own hypocrisy, of his disdain for Dimitri and Claude's loud coupling and his love of wringing every sound possibly, as loudly as possible, from his own lover. This was different, he rationalized. He didn't care about whoever shared the walls of Linhardt's dorm room. Linhardt didn't seem to care, either, wails unending and his stroked himself in time to Felix's thrusts.

Here it was: Felix's favorite moment. The beginning of the end when Linhardt's eyes opened just enough to meet his own, the familiar groaning-cry that came when Linhardt did. The sharp, almost painful contraction of Linhardt's body, followed immediately by subsequently relaxing pulses. Linhardt was already blinking sleepily by the time Felix was coming hard, overcome by the intensity of the moment, wrung out by Linhardt's need.

Panting shallowly, Felix drew out, reaching once more for the box beneath the bed for a folded handkerchief. Linhardt's breath was already coming deep and even, eyelashes fluttering as his mind began to wander towards sleep. Past encounters had taught Felix that Linhardt would sleep through any mess, dealing with the clean-up in the morning--or afternoon if he didn't deign to wake in time for classes. Though he knew it wasn't necessary, Felix used the handkerchief to clean the worst of the mess, earning an appreciative smile from Linhardt, who was swiftly fading. By the time Felix discarded the cloth, Linhardt had curled onto his side, breathing softly through his mouth.

As always, the dilemma now became: did Felix stay, or did he leave? He'd fallen asleep in Linhardt's bed before, usually after their more vigorous sessions, and Linhardt hadn't expressed any opinion either way, which seemed to mean it was Felix's choice entirely. He considered the task of washing up, dressing, then walking all the way back up to his room and decided that, for tonight, at least, he would simply stay. He edged Linhardt over a bit to share the pillow, then threw his arm over Linhardt's waist, curling around him. The night was cool, but the room was still warm with their passion, so he ignored the blankets kicked to the foot of the bed in favor of the warmth of Linhardt's skin.

Felix didn't truly understand how Linhardt could fall asleep so completely and so trustingly after sex. After all, they'd barely known anything about each other that first time. Still barely knew anything about each other, as they rarely spoke before, during or after. Was sleep after sex the norm? Felix usually felt energized, so if he didn't get up right away, his mind had a tendency to wander. Breathing in the scent of Lindhart's spiced soap, Felix waited to feel tired enough to fall asleep.

As usual, his thoughts ran ahead of him.

What does this mean for him? Felix wondered. What does it mean for me? We're both graduating in a few months and we'll both be returning to our homes at distal ends of the kingdom. Is he expecting me to ask him to come with me? Does he expect me to go home with him?

Both options seemed equally ludicrous. But the more he turned the idea over in his head, the more Felix realized he'd miss what he had here at Garreg Mach. What he had with Linhardt. And the more he thought about it, the more worried he was that Linhardt didn't feel the same. Or, wait, was it worse if Linhardt did feel the same?

What in the eternal flames were they doing?

"Linhardt." Felix jostled the scholar's shoulder. "Linhardt!"

"Hm? What? Ready to go again already?" Linhardt yawned, arching back into the shell of Felix's body. "How long has it been? Feels like I only just fell asleep."

"No, it's not that," Felix replied, pushing himself up onto an elbow. "I wanted to ask you: What is this to you?"

"What? This?" Linhardt blinked, sleepy and confused. "It's called sleep. It's what we do at night when we're not having sex."

Felix might have pushed him out of the bed if Linhardt wasn't sleeping against the wall. "You know what I mean, Linhardt."

"Oh, we have to do this now?" Linhardt rubbed at his eyes. "Fine. This is just really great sex, Felix. That's all. I'm well satisfied, but if you're not, I don't mind if you poke around elsewhere. Although, perhaps you might check with a practiced healer, because I'm not certain such a sex drive is entirely healthy."

"No, I'm--I'm satisfied." How had Linhardt put Felix onto the defensive so fast? "That's it, then? Just sex?"

"Of course." Linhardt snagged a blanket from the end of the bed, yawning as he tucked himself in. "Beds are for two things only, so if you're not waking me for sex, then let me sleep."

"Weren't you reading in bed before I came in?"

"Beds are for three things. Sleep or go back to listening to the dashing princes."

Felix snorted. He doubted Claude and Dimitri were still awake to be making noise, but he didn't want to chance it, either. Still, though, Linhardt's off-handed explanation had something twisting inside his chest, or perhaps the pit of his stomach. But wasn't it a good thing that they were on the same page? That this...this thing they had, it would be over for the both of them once they graduated.

And that was the way it was supposed to be.

Right?

"Is that...is that really what you want?" Felix found himself asking, as if he couldn't stop himself. "For this to be like it never happened after we graduate?"

Linhardt groaned and it was not a sexy sound. He glared up at Felix through a spill of green hair and one red-veined indigo eye. "Felix. If you didn't understand what this was from the beginning, then I vastly over-estimated your intelligence. I'm the heir to my house in the Empire. And while you haven't been exactly forthcoming, as I understand it, you are the heir to your house in just about the northern most part of the Kingdom. What ‘this’ is, is our last bit of freedom before we return to our family homes as full knights and nobles, where we'll be expected to carry out our duties to our families. Once we return to our respective homes, I assume we will each be expected to do our duty as crest-bearers and sire children who also bear crests. As you are well aware of these facts, I believed you understood all of this."

"What if--" Felix wasn't sure what he was asking. Something that wasn't an injury ached in his chest.

"What if?" Linhardt asked, seeming to understand despite the incomplete question. "Did you want to live with me in the Empire?"

"No." It wasn't an altogether uncomfortable prospect, but home was still home. Despite his grief, resentment and frustration towards the boar prince, it was the place he’d grown up, the place his brother had died and the only place he’d ever envisioned as “home.”

"And I have no intention of moving to the frigid north. I hope that answers your 'what if.'" Linhardt tugged the blanket up over his head this time, as if it was thick enough to keep Felix from waking him again.

He hadn't needed to hide; Felix understood the sentiment well enough. He'd known, hadn't he? Even before he asked the question? There was no future with Linhardt, nothing that ended with the two of them together. He hadn't even wanted that when he'd asked the question...right?

Felix settled down into the bed, sliding one arm around Linhardt's waist and curling around him. Linhardt shifted fussily for a moment before relaxing back into him. He'd miss these nights of comfort and companionship, but thinking logically, he knew he'd find someone to warm his bed back at House Fraldarius. Perhaps that would be whatever woman his father chose for him to wed, or maybe he'd make friends among the house guards and soldiers. Nights like this one weren't lost to him, just nights spent lying beside Linhardt. Who wasn't making himself all that sympathetic, in all honesty. His sharp tongue and quick wit were one of the things Felix liked about Linhardt, but not so much when he turned those tools against Felix.

Unless...

Was Linhardt already pulling away? Preparing for the day they would graduate, never to see each other again?

It did seem odd for the normally mild-seeming scholar to lash out as hard as he had. Then again, he did tend to wake up cranky until he had his tea, so maybe that was it, too.

Felix buried his nose in Linhardt's hair, breathing in the scents of soap, spices and ink. He could accept that there was no future with Linhardt. But the thought of never seeing him again still twisted his stomach unpleasantly. What was the point of making friends outside of one's own realm if you were never going to see them after graduation?

A spark of an idea occurred just then. Before he could examine it too closely, Felix was shaking Linhardt awake once more.

"Linhardt?"

"I swear, Fraldarius, if this isn't about sex--" Linhardt didn't open his eyes as Felix tugged the blanket from over his head, but he flicked his palm up, heat and light smoldering in his palm, reminding Felix that no matter how helpless Linhardt might pretend to be, he was far from weak.

"It is about sex," Felix assured him. Linhardt blinked his eyes open and fixed Felix with a skeptical glare, his palm still glowing. "Not about sex tonight. Sex in the future."

"Sex between now and graduation?" Linhardt asked dryly. "I'm beginning to think that's not going to include you in my bed."

"Just listen," Felix urged. "You're going to have to return to Garreg Mach for years after graduation, aren't you? Training to become a bishop doesn't end after a single year."

"Yes. My education here will continue at least twice a year," Linhardt replied, already sounding bored by the prospect of it. The light in his hand faded as it dropped to his pillow. "Perhaps as much as four times a year. The library here is so much better than the ones back home."

"If you write to me before you return, I can meet you here," Felix offered hopefully. "I know we'll go our separate ways after graduation, but I...I've really come to enjoy our time together. If all we can manage are a few visits each year, I'd like to make the effort."

"You would come all the way from the frozen north just to see me once or twice a year?" Linhardt asked, skeptical once more.

Felix nodded.

Linhardt's smile was slow, but real. "I'd like that."

"I'd like it, too."

Linhardt rolled into him, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. The mood was quickly spoiled, however, when Linhardt broke the kiss to yawn. "You must let me sleep now, or else I'll warp you back to your own room. Unless the spell goes awry and you end up between the boar prince and the smirking stag."

Felix groaned. "I’ll do whatever you say, just don’t send me to that room."

He fell asleep with Linhardt in his arms, thinking of how he'd enjoy his last few months at the monastery, as well as the next few years to come.

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ShiroKabocha1) for more smutty fanfiction.
> 
> Also, if anyone has any art of this rarepair, I will love you forever if you share it with me!!!! <3<3<3


End file.
